


Whatever will flourish

by SassyGrape



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Survival Horror, Trust, Undead, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 05:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18381521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyGrape/pseuds/SassyGrape
Summary: Living through the Zombie-Apocalypse is bad enough, stumbling in all kinds of trouble and getting mistrusted is even worse when people should actually work together.It started while Neve and Dalia were on their holiday, the outbreak of the sickness hindering them to go back to Atlanta. And so they search for another place to go, accidentally running into Rick's group.Just then the real adventure and survival begins, for human-eating monsters aren't the only troublemakers in this new world.





	Whatever will flourish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rura Ledoux](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Rura+Ledoux).



> This one is for my friend Rura, with whom I have the honour to watch The Walking Dead every monday. After all these years having a great time with the show, I'm gonna thank her with that little fic. Though, it might grow a bit.

The sun shone down onto the streets, the forests and cities, unforgivingly heating up the air no matter the fact that it was only late spring. The air above the asphalt shimmered, betraying the eye.

Neve and Dalia marched down the highway which was crammed with car wrecks, hot aluminum and steel corpses barring their path. The young women kept quiet, their eyes always checking their surrounding for possible dangers. Especially dangers in humanoid form, which reacted sensitive to sound.

Just three weeks ago it had started, quite unspectacularly so. A strange sickness had spread, rumors of people wrongly diagnosed _dead_ \- though how high is the probability for doctors all over the world to suddenly misdiagnose hundreds? - and warnings to stay home and keep the doors locked. 

Both women worked in the medical sector, they had been on holiday at that time, spending a week outside of Atlanta in a small cabin, just relaxing. Or so they had planned. They had received calls from their employers to get back to work as soon as possible, they were needed. 

But as they had arrived at Atlanta, the military had already shut off the city, not letting anybody in or out.  
To be honest, the women somehow were glad they weren't allowed to get into the city. What they've seen from afar, down the hill, had been enough.  
Smoke emitting from different places of the city, dark and ominous, sirens all day long. Until they died down. 

Upon Neve's suggestion they had once more visited the city borders – only to see that there was not a single solider left, the place had seemed portentously silent.  
Although, there had been noises; strange ones, guttural and deep, like a huge swarm slowly buzzed through the streets, searching, roaming. 

The decision to get away from Atlanta as far as possible had not been hard to meet, they had packed their things in the cabin and drove off until they ran out of gas.  
Somehow they had been glad to get out of the car – the radio had stayed silent no matter how often they'd changed the station. There had always been the same sound, flickering and ear-hurting if one listened for too long. It had made them feel hopeless in a way. 

Maybe they would've managed to get some gas from another car, but they didn't want to do that. Walking seemed … strangely appropriate for their situation.  
And they didn't cause too much noise themselves like that.

Noise, Neve and Dalia had experienced, attracted all kinds of unwanted visitors. They had been chatting, laughing nervously even, as suddenly something stumbled into their way.  
Their first dead-face.  
Still looking fresh, though, the man hadn't been dead for long. He had gnarled at them, opened his mouth, blood-smeared hands stretched out towards them. Gut-wrenching stench, like rotting flesh and feces and drying blood, had covered the man.  
The women hadn't been able to do much but shut up and run away, as fast as they could. Then they'd climbed a tree and hid there until sunrise, hearts beating fast, hands sweaty.

“It's a wonder there's not a single dead-face in this car cemetery”, Neve mumbled, her fingers clutched around the straps of her backpack. She knew they had been lucky to be out of town as the sickness had spread, but to her, luck looked different.  
Walking under the hot sun, not enough water with them, surviving on protein-bars and whatever they found on their way didn't seem … lucky. 

“Mhm...” Dalia looked around, scratching her neck. “It's really strange, tho. Like, there must've been hundreds of people. Where they at?” 

“Hopefully just … away.”

They went on for a while in silence, thinking about how many dead-faces could hide in a place like that. Too many for them, definitely. Hell, even one was one too many for now. The women didn't have anything to defend themselves.  
A fact they had to improve, they knew that.

“Wait. Do you hear that?” Neve stopped mid-movement, squinting her eyes. 

“What? I don't hear anything.” Still, Dalia didn't walk on, waiting for her friend.

“There's something comin'.” Putting her hand on her ear, Neve cocked her head. “Sounds like a big car. Or a motorcycle...”

“You mean living people?”, Dalia wondered – then she heard it, too.

The deep, glowering sound of engines, vibrating on the asphalt and through the air. Distant, but still. Still there, unmistakably.  
This was the first ray of hope within two weeks! Other humans! Alive ones!

“We should get there.”

“Are ye sure?” Neve threw her friend a doubting glance. Because, who knew how people reacted in such a change of the world. Would they still be friendly? Or take what they can get and murder whoever didn't want to give their stuff away?

“I mean, we gotta try. If we run into a whole bunch of dead-faces, we're done for”, Dalia slowly said and lit a cigarette.  
At least there was probably nobody left to indent them for breaking open that cigarette machine.

“Well, basically you're right. If we die, we don't.” She stopped. “Too early?”

They threw each other a careful glance, then allowed a small grin. 

“It'll always suck, so whatever.” 

With their steps growing bigger and slightly faster, they came closer to the sound of the engines – until it suddenly stopped. Silence filled the space once again.  
Confused Dalia looked over to Neve. 

“Did you get from which direction that came from?”

“I guess.” The younger one rubbed her eyes, then walked on. “Let's try this way.”

And not long after, they saw a big camper van as well as a motorbike, surrounded by other cars – but the air around these two machines shimmered with hotness. Their engines had run until now. 

“There.” Neve pointed at the vehicles. Both women hid behind a blue, dead Volvo. “And now?”

“Let's wait here. I bet they have trouble getting through with the camper”, Dalia murmured, took a last drag on the cigarette and killed it. She wouldn't allow the smoke to reveal their position.

“But what if-”

But Neve was cut off by a male voice, rising a tad above average volume. It came from the camper, at least from that direction. 

“The whole world's having a tough time. Damn, man! Open your eyes. Look where we are! Stuck in this mess here!”

There was a short silence in which Dalia and Neve shot each other meaningful glances. Somebody was losing their mind. Can't be blamed, though. The whole world's having a tough time. 

“Should we really go there?”, Neve asked, not so sure about their plan anymore. That guy sounded done for, on the brink of losing it. Maybe they should wait until these people over their finished themselves off and then just take their stuff.  
Damn, that sounded cold, even to her.  
But why should they take the risk?

As she didn't get an answer, Neve looked over to where Dalia was – or had been. Her friend was gone. Her heart skipped a beat as she couldn't see the annoying woman near her, and Neve's fingers stiffened. Where was Dalia? Had a dead-face gotten her? Without a sound?

“What are you doin', Neve? Come.”

“DALIA!”, Neve hissed, now seeing her friend ducked between a Ford Transit and a VW Golf. “You scared the shit outta me!”

“Sorry.” The older one grinned sheepishly, then waved her friend to come closer. “Look at that. You see these two fellers?” Dalia pointed at the right side of the camper van, two guns were leaning there and, as she'd said, two men. 

One was in his sixties or early seventies, hard to tell, the other one in his thirties. Maybe. They seemed stressed and nervous. 

“Let's go before they get back”, the younger man, a black guy with a bald head, said, his voice now weak. He'd been the one talking loud before.

The older white dude was standing, according to his body language he wasn't fond of the idea, he was tense; but then he reached out for the forehead of the black man, feeling his skin.

“Do you think he thinks the man's havin' a fever?”, Dalia wondered, biting her lower lip. 

“Seems like that. Maybe he's hurt.”

“Or sick.”

The two women exchanged an intense glance, both wondering if it was worth the risk. Should they go and ask what was going on? Maybe the men would attack them. But maybe they just needed their help. As doctors assistants they knew how to treat many a thing. 

“Oh my God! You're burning up.” The older man sounded clearly shocked. “Gimme that. Come on.” He took something from the black man, then handing him a part or pieces of it again. “Here, take these.”

“Seems like they have medication”, Neve uttered, following Dalia who crouched closer to the scene. 

“Seems like that guy's havin' a serious fever”, Dalia replied. “We should go check that out.”

“Just promise we'll leave immediately if he has _the sickness_.”

“Sure.”


End file.
